


The Fall of Eléthmae (daretowrite prompt #146 burning skies)

by emptymasks



Series: daretowrite challenge [3]
Category: Aléthion, Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Dare to Write Challenge, Death, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, High Fantasy, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mention of Death, Mention of blood, daretowrite, i got too emotional writing this, mention of violence, part of a larger story, tagging my characters as I hope to post more about them, warning: this is going to be sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptymasks/pseuds/emptymasks
Summary: Marcellus stood in the doorway of what was once his home. His mother’s body laying at his feet, his youngest brother shivering in his arms.Outside the sky was burning. Everything was burning. The stench of it seeped into everything. A molten decay.(Please read the notes at the end)





	

Red. All he could see was red.

The blood stuck to his boots and clung to his hair and he felt as though no matter how much be scrubbed at his skin it would still be there.

Marcellus stood in the doorway of what was once his home. His mother’s body laying at his feet, his youngest brother shivering in his arms.

Outside the sky was burning. Everything was burning. The stench of it seeped into everything. A molten decay.

But despite the horror, it was quiet. Those that had been fighting were either dead, captured, or had surrendered. He looked down at Jasper. The boy’s light hair stained with ash. If he gave in now they might be safe… or at least alive.

He stepped back and turned to look up at the palace. Smoke clawing its way out of the windows and escaping towards the sky. On one of the open towers wires were being stung up between the pillars; with a lurch in his stomach Marcellus realised they were wings, cut from fallen soldiers.

And he knew.

The king was dead. Damien. His ruler. His friend.

And if Damien was dead then…

He felt his knees start to buckle. There was no way Maximus alive. He would have sacrificed his life defending Damien. Or lost it trying to get vengeance, _justice_ , for his death. There was only himself and Jasper left. His family… At least Evan wasn’t here.

_Evan._

Before he realised he was moving, he found himself rushing towards the nearest gate. What was there left for him here? His mother? His brother? His friends? All of them dead.

He pulled himself between two houses as some of the invading soldiers walked past. There was no way he would get out of the kingdom before they closed the gates.

He needed a horse.

\-----

Evanelle awoke to the sound of screaming. She grabbed her nearest jacket and rushed out into the hall, freezing outside Daléth’s room. Her heart stopped.

She flung the door open to see Daléth on his bed, laying on his stomach. A few servants who had heard his cries stood watching him. Or rather, watching the blood dripping from his back.

“Why did no one wake me?” She tried to keep her voice steady as she hurried over to Daléth’s side.

“Our apologies, you grace, King Cedric told us not to disturb-” One of the women started to defend herself.

“In future, when my son is in any pain you have my permission to wake me.” She turned back to Daléth, placing a hand gently on his head. “I need a bucket of water, a cloth, and a comb.”

She pulled a chair up next to the bed.

“Now!” She startled the servants into scurrying out of the room.

As they brought the items to her, she stroked Daléth’s hair, the sweat from his fever making it stick to his forehead. She rubbed the damp cloth gently over Daléth’s back, the skin now stretching and bulging outwards as the bone of his wings attempted to break through.

Daléth’s hand shot out and grabbed onto hers. She was struck in this moment of how much he looked like Damien.

_“Well I guess this means Mark’s rich now- ah!” The young prince gritted his teeth together._

_He was laying on his stomach, the blood running down his back dripping onto the sheets._

_“Damien, you shouldn’t try and talk, you’re in a lot of pain.” Evanelle was sat at his bedside, she leaned over to brush Damien’s hair out of his eyes._

_“But think about it. How much gold do you think he’ll get, Elle?”_

_“The sort of people who would bet you’d never grow your wings don’t strike me as the sort of people who would honour their word, brother.”_

_“Still. I bet it would be enough for him to finally take you out to dinner – ow.”_

_“Don’t say ‘ow’, I lightly tapped you.”_

_“Yes, but remember, I’m in a lot of pain.” Damien smirked._

How Damien had managed to look smug in that moment was beyond Evanelle. Most of those descended from Erron would get their wings when they went through the early years of adolescence, the later they came through, the more it would hurt. Evanelle’s came through when she was twelve. Damien’s didn’t come through until he was seventeen.

Daléth was only eleven, so, thankfully, it wouldn’t be much longer before his wings finally broke through.

And it wasn’t. Only a few minutes later Daléth was sleeping, while Evanelle washed the blood out of his wings and began combing them. She had only ever done this for Damien, but she found herself easily cleaning and straightening the feathers.

She was finding the act relaxing, but then again anything would feel relaxing right now compared to seeing her son in such pain only a few moments ago.

But then, she lifted her gaze, her eyes caught movement out of the window, and she saw it. A beacon of red lighting up the forest around it. She dropped the comb and walked over to the window, blinking hard, willing for the sight to be an illusion. A hallucination from her lack of sleep.

It wasn’t. She could see people, mostly the palace guards, gathered outside, watching the flames.

Why weren’t they moving? Why weren’t they helping? Why hadn’t somebody told her? That was her kingdom, her home. Her home was burning, crumbling into ash and dissolving into the sky.

Damien. Marcellus. Maximus. Her mother. Cynwise. Aria. Issak.

Were any of them alive?

Daléth mumbled in his sleep and she shakily sat back down, picking the comb up off the floor.

The people here knew. They knew. They knew and no one had said anything. She needed to go, she needed to leave Daléth with someone she tursted, she needed to get her weapons and-

The door to the room burst open and Evanelle instantly drew herself up glancing around for anything she could use to defend herself.

“We don’t have a lot of time.” The figure said.

Evanelle knew that voice.

“Ava? What are you doing here? Cedric said he’ll be able to clear you name soon, you shouldn’t be-”

“Cedric’s said a lot of things lately. Something’s wrong with him. Something must be controlling him, forcing him to do these things. He would never hurt anyone, Evan. I know my little brother, he wouldn’t…”

“What has he done. Ava, you’re not making any sense.” Evanelle found herself shaking.

“I don’t have time to explain, we need to-”

“I am not taking my son anywhere unless I know what is going on.”

She matched Ava’s determined gaze. She couldn’t risk moving Daléth, not unless she had no other choice.

“Cedric’s not going to clear my name, Evan. He’s the one who set me up. He poisoned our brother, and tricked everyone into blaming me. I heard him taking with you cousin, Lucius. And you know the that poison was the same one that killed you father-”

“Cedric did not kill my father-”

“Evan!” Evanelle flinched. “Cedric hasn’t left to go and renew the trade agreements with Westport. He left to go to Elethmae. And he left with an army.”

**Author's Note:**

> daretowrite prompt #146 - Burning Skies
> 
> So I'm very nervous about posting this. I've had this original story for years. Earlier this year I finally started posting about it on a side-blog I made http://alethion.tumblr.com . The story and the characters mean a lot to me and I've wanted to write the story properly for years. 
> 
> I wrote this months ago in the middle of a lunch break at Uni and I had forgotten all about it, until about a week ago.
> 
> This is the first piece of the story I've written (discounting character bios, backstories, and very short drafts). I would really appreciate any and all feedback, and if you want to know more about the story and what I have planned for it you can go to http://alethion.tumblr.com and http://emptymasks.tumblr.com/tagged/alethion
> 
> The daretowrite challenge can be found here: http://inkstay.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you for reading this :)
> 
> p.s. for anyone who's interested I like to listen to instrumental music when I write and draw for Aléthion. For this I had 'Lily's Theme' from The Deathly Hallows Part II on. It's a heartbreaking, beautifully tragic piece of music and I got far too emotional when writing this.


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